


Sunrise Moments

by Nifflers_and_Crookshanks



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Heart shaped herb, Sunrises, Wedding, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 19:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14361987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nifflers_and_Crookshanks/pseuds/Nifflers_and_Crookshanks
Summary: T'Challa and Nakia spend two sunrises together.





	Sunrise Moments

The sun has barely risen, golden and red hues staining the sky, when Nakia hears a voice in her ear, urging her to wake up.

“You are not supposed to be here,” She murmurs into her pillow, a smile on her face. Only a few hours more and then they can spend every hour in the day together, but now the Queen Mother would have her son’s head if she found him here in her room. Nakia does not think to make much of a fuss, though, she is warm and content, surrounded in blankets and still half in a dream - if anything, he is a welcome addition.

“Nakia, there is a seedling,” T’Challa’s voice is soft and gentle, but Nakia sits up like she’s been struck by a lightning bolt.

“Where?”

“Follow me,”

They walk hand in hand through the empty streets, the dawn haze still ever present. Occasionally the serenity is broken by the clash of pots and pans and the smell of wood fires that heralded a Wakanda Central morning, but the couple pay the distractions no heed. There is something more important calling them.

T’Challa’s strides are confident, and Nakia knows this is a familiar route for him - everyday since his return he has risen before the sun to haunt the desolate temple garden, searching for a remnant of what was lost. She has pretended not to know, the conversation she would provoke too hard to bear. It breaks her heart to know the legacy of their nation is burnt to ashes in a scorched flower bed, and it would mean so much more to the Black Panther.

Nakia is not surprised when he leads her to the temple of Bast, but she is surprised when he attempts to guide her inside, feet refusing to cross the threshold.

“This is not my place,” She says simply.

“In a few hours it will be,” He replies, “All I have is yours.” And so she follows, unable to shake the feeling that she is a trespasser in a place far more ancient than she could imagine. She has only been inside the temple once before, and she did not think to linger.

Nakia smells the rich earth before she sees it, her eyes adjusting to the dark as she enters the main chamber. The statues of Bast still stand guard over the desecrated temple, teeth bared at the intruders as T’Challa steadily leads her to the far side. After seeing the damage following the battle, T’Challa had told her that the healthy soil had been turned to cracked clay, stripped of it’s moisture, but Bast’s water flows beneath the ground and Nakia now smells a scent she can only describe as _life_.

“Here, it has just barely sprouted from the ground,” He says, and despite the darkness she thinks she see’s the smallest beginnings of a plant, green and vibrant.

“I am glad, T’Challa,” She replies, leaning into him as her eyes dampen. Nakia remembers well the devastating sight she saw when she last was here, and remembers even more clearly how destroyed she was after he… The superstitious part of her sees the seedling as a good omen, blessing the life they will begin together. Fire leaves fertile ground for growth, and from the struggles they have shared new life will flourish, she is sure of that.

The pair stand there a while, link together as they stare at the small seedling. Eventually, it is T’Challa that reminds Nakia that they have affairs to attend to today.

“I would not want to miss my own wedding,” She agrees, and it is he that follows her out of the temple and into the new world.

When they reach the palace Shuri and Ramonda are eating breakfast, and give the pair a knowing smile when they enter the dining room. It is Nakia that lets out a nervous laugh and T’Challa who rolls his eyes. Afterwards, Nakia kisses him good bye, relinquishing his embrace in order to return to the River Tribe settlement as part of the wedding ceremonies. T’Challa watches her go until he can no longer see her and endures his sister’s teasing.

She is a green goddess when he sees her again, her dress the colour of the small seedling and her eyes shining bright. Eyes that also like what they see, he thinks, by the way they sweep over him in his regalia.

It is only when it is midnight and the celebrations are still in full swing that they realise it was probably not a good idea to let Shuri plan the private festivities. While the Queen Mother had promised the reception’s preparations would be done under her watchful gaze along with the public celebrations T’Challa had the sneaking suspicion that the party had been organised by an unrestrained princess. His ideas were only confirmed by how many tipsy guests there were fiddling with various prototypes from the lab that were being handed out.

“I think something is going to catch fire,” Nakia murmurs at his side, eyeing a particularly drunk M’Baku investigating what seemed to be one of Shuri’s rejected ‘improvements’ on a flame thrower.

“I do not doubt it,” T’Challa answers, turning to face her, “Do you want to be here when it does?”

“I do not know,” Nakia teases back, “What are the alternatives?” In response, T’Challa’s eyes flick to the door.

“Follow me,” He says for the second time today, and for the second time Nakia follows.

* * *

 

“You redecorated,” Is the first thing to pass Nakia’s lips when she enters his room - their room, now. She had been in his room many times before, but tonight is the first time it looks like an entirely different place. The panelled wall that separated the room from his personal lounge of sorts is gone, turning the place into one large bedroom, and the old soft carpet has been taken away to reveal cool marble. The walls, which had always been differing shades of black, are now a lush green that reminds her of home, and there is a new bed, the biggest Nakia has ever seen. It is the bed that draws her interest the most.

“I did,” T’Challa agrees, turning to grin at her. “My mother said that I should wait and consult with you, but I think I know what you like,” Everything is new, fresh and sleek, and while she is grateful, Nakia also knows it’s unnecessary.

“You did not need to do all this for me, T’Challa,”

“You? Who said you, eh? A king needs his space as much as his queen!” Is his reply, a teasing grin breaking out on his face as he jostles her. “Do you like it, My Queen?” He whispers in her ear, drawing her into his arms.

“I do,” He kisses her cheek then, and afterwards her forehead, and then he is kissing her all over her face, lavishing them down her neck. She stops him at her shoulders, making comment about the paint that crosses and dots her body.

“It will get all over the sheets,” She says, pushing away from him.

“They can be washed,” He replies, continuing his tracking of her collarbone.

“T’Challa.”

It takes more time than either of them would prefer to remove the paint, but then clothes are pulled off and discarded across the floor in their fumbling attempts to both undress and get to the bed simultaneously.

“We left what I am sure was an unforgettable party,” Nakia smiles, making conversation as her back gently settles on the bed, legs wrapping around her husband. She faintly wonders if their absence has been noted and whether or not something has caught fire yet.

“And you do not think this will be just as unforgettable?” T’Challa asks, feigning hurt.

“We shall see,” She attempts an ambivalent tone, something quite difficult beneath her new husband’s body, but the flash in her eyes give her away.

“We shall see,” T’Challa agrees before drawing her in for a dizzying kiss, hands winding down her body.

Afterwards, when the world is slow and quiet, he traces every inch of her with his hands, stroking and caressing and thanking Bast for his wife.

“I am in awe of you, My Queen,” He tells her, eyes locking as his fingertips run down her arm. “I have always been in awe of you,”

“I love you too much,” Nakia responds, “Every single part of me is you and I do not want to know anything else any more,”

“I think that is alright,” T’Challa says evenly, “It is a mutual feeling,”

They should be tired. Neither of them know why they are not exhausted, in fact, but they do not question it either. If they no longer need sleep they can spend those hours getting lost in one another, lost in their love and lost in their dreams for the future. They talk of everything and anything, from the likelihood of the curtains downstairs remaining intake or what degree of singed they will to the children they will have, what names they might name them and what they hoped they would be like. They talk so long that the only thing that interrupts them is the soft light of the first rays of dawn filtering into the room.

“I think I have made a terrible mistake,” Nakia says, turning to face her husband. “I will never have any rest with you around,”

“It was your beauty that stole my sleep,” T’Challa grins back, sitting up on his elbow to look down and admire her. “I hope you understand that I have no intention of leaving this bed,”

“Then that is good, My King, because I feel exactly the same way,”

Then they watched the sunrise together, and thought of all the sunrises they had yet to spend in each others arms.


End file.
